


Say To the Mountains

by missjmelville



Series: Him That Sit Upon the Throne [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Possessive Hannibal, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4761917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjmelville/pseuds/missjmelville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bedelia grasped the fork tightly beneath the table, she should’ve listened, she should’ve realised Will’s warning for what it was, she should’ve left when she had the chance. Everything seemed slightly out of focus and blurred but she was determined, she’d survived so far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say To the Mountains

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd, any and all mistakes are mine. I have a new tumblr where I will be posting updates to fic and where people can ask me fic-related questions without having to wade through my main blog to find things. [missjmelville-fic](http://missjmelville-fic.tumblr.com/).

Bedelia grasped the fork tightly beneath the table, she should’ve listened, she should’ve realised Will’s warning for what it was, she should’ve left when she had the chance. Everything seemed slightly out of focus and blurred but she was determined, she’d survived so far.

A warm hand circled her wrist tightly and she gasped in surprise, fingers clenching tighter around the fork as she jerked her arm, but it was no use. The man behind her tutted disapprovingly as his other hand circled around her waist and pried the fork from her hand.

“You should know better than that Bedelia,” Will whispered warningly in her ear before stepping back and away, the sudden coolness at the loss of his body heat made her shiver.

Will circled around to the other end of the table where she could watch him easily; she noted the bandage high on his right cheek, the skin beneath purpled and swollen, it looked painful. He noticed her staring and brushed his fingers gently as if checking the bandage was still there.

“A souvenir,” he murmured with a sort of twisted smile as their eyes locked, his hand drifted down to rub absently at his chest.

“If you keep poking and prodding, you’ll tear your stitches,” Hannibal said as he entered the room with a bottle of wine and three glasses in hand. Once he’d placed them on the table, he turned to Will and cupped his face gently, tilting it into the light to examine the bruise. He hummed softly and turned away to face Bedelia, hand absently grasping Will’s and pulling it away from his chest.

She shouldn’t have been shocked at their closeness, at the proprietary way Hannibal held onto Will’s hand as if staking his claim, it was a strikingly intimate gesture though and as out of it as she was, she couldn’t help but stare at their clasped hands, bewildered.

“Well, shall we eat?” Hannibal smiled charmingly and led Will to the table with a soft tug of their joined hands. Fear pooled in Bedelia’s gut and she felt she might be sick. She should’ve listened, she should’ve realised Will’s warning for what it was, she should’ve left when she had the chance. Everything seemed slightly out of focus and blurred and she was trembling unconsciously, she wasn’t going to survive.


End file.
